So, I am probably living in the most peaceful times in a long, long time nowadays. Have faked my industrial training, and there is nothing left on my shoulders to get rid of nowadays. Hence, one fine day I decided to take these holidays as an opportunity to reunite myself with the love of my life- procrastination.
Now, since the only god I worship is Homer Simpson, I thought to myself, “What would Homer Simpson do?”, but it was taking way too much effort to complete the thought, so I did what I know would not allow me to accidentally use my brain too. I grabbed the half filled month old beer can I had carefully hidden in my room, stuffed the sofa in front of the TV with 4 pillows, burped out the loudest I could, shouted out the longest Hindi cuss word I knew to relieve just out of the old Indian habit, sat on the couch, and switched on the TV resolving not to get up until I want another cushion.
I skid through a volley of news channels, all were showing the following ‘breaking news’ supers:
The subtext of all the supers was-
But it was the caption of every news channel which got on my nerves. The variations were:
‘Not going the whole Hogg’
‘Not keen on Hogging the limelight’
‘Complaint just a Hoggwash?’
Now I know that all those who write these captions are failed poets (why else would they land up as a journalist?), but they got to know when to quit. I yell out: Hey, quit it, you’ve failed, move on.
Now I would be an idiot not to take the advice of someone like me, so I move on too.
{click}
It has taken 3 clicks to change the channel and I realize the batteries are going to fail soon. So I decide that come what may, I will spend some time watching each channel I pass. Some Hindi movie is playing. Tushar Kapoor enters frame and beats the hell out of some guy. “Not in mood to for a fantasy movie”, I say to myself. But the remote is not working. I look up in disgust, but within a moment my eyes light up, my chest swells, heart pumps faster, adrenaline starts rushing in my veins. Tushar Kapoor is now punching out two guys at the same time. My heart fills up with hope, I cry tears of joy. A thought passes, “Heck, if he can do this, I can probably take on the entire Pakistani army unarmed, single-handedly------Wait! --------Sunny Deol already did that in Gadar!!”
Since I don’t plagiarize, I go back to the movie. The goons hand over a wallet and a locket. TK gives the wallet back (subtext: Since I have to pay the producer to cast me in a movie, bankruptcy can at least ensure I get work for free. Please help), opens the locket
VO: Tumhaare pyaar ki nishani ko main kabhi bhi apne se alag nahi hone dunga (subtext: might not find another heroine to work with me in this lifetime, might as well do what I can to hold onto this one). Fade to black.
Some babe applies lipstick on her lips in front of the mirror and smacks them hard. I already know that this is the intro of the female lead. Lipstick application footage is I think some stock footage so popular in Bollywood that the only reason you might not see it in a movie is because all the prints were already being used and booked for well in advance. At least Kareena Kapoor manages to get hold of that footage every time. Camera pans out, déjà vu, it is indeed Kareena! I congratulate myself on my tremendous insight which I have had to do every 5 seconds of my life (It takes 4.99 seconds to congratulate myself and move on). A song comes up:
Ek baar toh India aake dekhna,
Right, just to see what your chances are of getting by without getting raped or duped within a week of landing here? (Doesn’t matter if you are male or female. If you are ‘gori chamdi’ (eng: white leather), u are already on somebody’s ‘screw’ list)
I have had enough of this twisted cryptic invite and bang my remote with my beer can, lo, the channel changes (mental note: When nothing else works, beer always will). Land up on Star Plus.
{click}
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
(Each zoom signifying a change of camera form the previous one which was at least 90 degrees away from the current one)
Two women conversing on mobile. One is at home in the puja room which you see in every serial and its ad. The other is on some highway outside some car near some tree.
(Wonder what she was up to?)
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
Homely girl: Aap chinta na kare Bhabhi
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
Jab tak aap yahan pahunchegi, bahut der ho chuki hogi
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
(Double zoom zoom?? Something big is going to happen!
Ye din aap zindagi bhar nahi bhul payengi
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
Is baar Diwali ka diya aapke haath se nahi jalega
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
(this is now accompanied by sounds of heavy thunder)
Is baar diwali ka diya mere haath jalega!
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
Zoom……. Zoom……. Zoom……… Zoom
(Heavier sounds of thunder. Heavy beating of drums and conch)
Camera zooms in alternately showing helpless disgusted pout and evil, smiling pout.
A crescendo builds up as the zoom-ins become faster. Abrupt fade to black. Evidently a cliffhanger ending to keep us glued for the next episode.
I give out a loud, pitiful whimper.
{click}
Some movie channel is showing some Mithun movie.
Ah! This should be good! This is the same guy who has mouthed the most legendary dialogues in movie history. Get a load of this:
kala shetty: “ye kaun hai be tu?”
Mithun da: “mai hun tum jaise logon ki nafarat karne wala, garibon ke liye jyoti, gundon ke liye jwala tujhe banake maut ka niwala, tere sineme gaad dunga mai maut ka bhala. dekh lenga salaa tereko.”
Main hoon Do Numbri, ek se jyaada, teen se kam
Dikhne mein bevda, bhaagne mein ghoda, aur maarne mein hathoda
Apuun ka naam hai HEERA,
Apuun ne sab ko Cheera
DUSHMANO KI LAASHON PAR BHANGRA KARNE WALA KABHI LANGDA NAHIN HOTA
{sniff!}
I love this guy!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
The movie is disco dancer.
Fuck! This is not what I know Mithun for! This is not why he has this huge fan following. Change channel before I have to see Mithun submit himself to the trashiness of Bollywood A-grade.
{click}
Some Page 3 program is on. Some dumb(I’m-so-excited-to-be-here) anchor is interviewing an equally dumb babe whose real face I can’t make out beneath that make-up. I assume that she is one of those socialite-by-profession babes.
Anchor: Wow! Your hair looks great! Congrats on your new hairstyle!
Babe:
(Don’t know what she was saying in her not-from-this-planet accent, but it was English because she was she was saying ‘dollars’ in every 2nd sentence. Bet she doesn’t know what rupee is or who Gandhi was. If she did, she would have had to pay for her boob job in Indian currency, for which she would have to be good at math to count so many zeroes. And if she was any good at math, she would not have to be ‘socialite-by-profession’)
Anchor: Tell our viewers something about it.
Babe: {gibberish}
Anchor: Wow! Great lips!
(subtext: haven’t been laid for a while now, some hot lesbian action should arouse someone’s feeling in me. Kiss me fast!)
New shade?
Babe: Yes! {gibberish, $, gibberish, $, gibberish}
Anchor: Tell our viewers something about it.
Babe: {very long gibberish}
Of course, I never managed to see either her new wig or her lips because the camera was completely focused on her new boobs (Thank you Mr. Cameraman!) which were threatening to pop out any instant. They would pop out anyway that night when some random guy at that party would score with them in a while.
Standard questioning ends. “You rock”, “you rock harder” pleasantries are exchanged. Boobs leave screen, I change channel.
{click}
Some reality show is on.
A contestant has been eliminated. All the other contestants are crying. The one who got eliminated is amused.
{click}
Reality show. Contestant is eliminated. The other contestants, plus the judges plus the anchor are crying.
{click}
Reality show. Contestant is eliminated. Other contestants, judges, anchor AND the audiences are now crying.
{click}
Reality show. Contestant is eliminated. Other contestants, judges, anchor, audience crying. I’m crying too. These are the ‘what did I do to deserve having to watch this’ tears.
{click}
MTV: ‘Dard-E-Disco’ is playing.
Channel V: ‘Chak De India’ is playing
Music
Apparently, Music
This pisses me off. I go to take a piss and refresh myself.
{click}
Some laughter program on some news channel. Here we go again.
Naveen Prabhakar does his bar girl act. This is supposedly a new joke. The punch line is delivered. It’s “Hat! Kutta!”
I follow his advice. I change channel.
{click}
Some TV Shoppe ad is on air. Bejan Daruwala is selling a gemstone which is going to make the buyer the richest man in the world. I wonder, “Why doesn’t he keep it himself and become rich so that he doesn’t have to sell stuff on TV again?”
But this is the person who predicted that computers would start reproducing themselves by 2008, way back in 2000. That’s right asshole! Some of us do remember. Can’t fool the whole world. Although I do concur he does come very close.
I drink beer to calm my nerves.
{click}
Aastha channel. Some saffron clothed god-woman is giving a pravachan about her-god-know-what because the dialect of Hindi which she is using has not been used since the times of Aamir Khusro, and my beer enriched brain does not allow me to waste my time deciphering it. But it still comes across as a refreshing change from Baba Ramdev claiming in front of his army of devotees-dolts of curing AIDS with pranayam.
But this was more boring. I move on.
{click}
This channel is called God TV. Some guy in black suit is addressing a large hall filled to capacity. A wild energy has filled the crowd. A girl walks out of the crowd and up the ramp with faked difficulty to the suit man who now I gather is a priest. But doesn’t matter. The girl is sweet. She’s fine. In fact she’s so fine, I’d bone her then and there itself. ‘Chotu’ stands up in affirmation of this observation. “Cut that thought out”, I say to myself. “No need to think of anything dirty in the presence of God (TV). The girl speaks into the mike, “I’m feeling my legs for the first time”.
Priest: Is that so?
Fine girl: Yes.
Priest: Give me a hug.
I go red with jealously. I console myself, “he is just a priest”.
Priest: Friend, you are a miracle of god.
‘Chotu’ stands up again so majestically to give his consent that his name seems like a misnomer. “Religious channel, pure thoughts”, I check myself. But the events which followed shocked the living daylights out of me. Here is an audio transcript of what followed. Choose yourself what to make of it-
Priest: Is it your first time?
Girl (she is crying tears of joy all this while): Yes, it is my first time.
Priest: Do you like it?
Girl: Yes, I love it.
Priest: Trust me, you’ll love it even more once you get used to it.
Girl: I am looking forward to it.
Priest: Everyone please stand up in praise of this miracle of God you just witnessed.
(Everyone stands up, I don’t, ‘chotu’ does.)
Priest (to girl): Do you feel it?
Girl (still in tears): Oh yes, I feel it.
Priest: Have you felt it for the first time?
Girl: Oh yes! Oh Yes!
Priest: Do you want to feel more of it?
Girl: I want to feel it all the time.
(The girl and the priest are too close to each other and I can only see their backs all this while towards the camera. It is difficult to tell, but I guess he is curing her)
Priest: You like it?
Girl: I love it!
Priest: You want it?
Girl: Give it to me.
Priest: Then shout louder (in praise). Do you feel me?
Girl: I feel you.
Priest: Then shout it out, “Oh Jesus! I love you!”
Girl: Oh Jesus! I love you!
Priest: You feel me now?
Girl: Oh yes! Oh yes!
Priest (to crowd): Do you feel me?
Crowd (with manic excitement): Oh yes! Oh yes!
Then shout it out.
Crowd: Oh Jesus! We love you! Oh! Oh! We love you!
Priest: Join us in this miracle act of god. (to girl :) Are you feeling it inside you?
Girl: I feel it inside me.
Priest: Then fill the air with passion! With love! With god!
Girl (still bursting with joyful tears): Oh god! Oh god! I love you! Oh god!
Priest (to crowd): Join us.
The level of excitement has reached its highest state. The crowd has lost control of its emotions. The air is filled with love. Everyone is on top of each other, everyone is embracing someone else and feverish chants of ‘I love you’ and ‘Oh god! Oh god!’ have gripped every soul in the hall.
Priest (to girl): My god still has some love to give to you. Do you want it?
Girl oh yes! Give it to me.
Priest: Should I give it to you?
Girl: Give it to me! Oh god! Give all of it to me!
Priest: Can you handle it?
Girl: Oh god! Oh god! I can take in all the love that you can give me.
(The priest does something to her)
The atmosphere is fully heated up. The girl is losing control of herself. She is dancing on the floor like a maniac. The crowd is waving its hands and everyone is moving ‘to and fro’ in unison.
I can’t take it anymore. The love gets into me too. I go to my room and ‘lighten up and ‘unload’ my love. Feeling better, I come back to my senses and return to the TV couch.
I read somewhere that nothing sells like religion and sex. I guess the channel people read the same magazine too. I see the logo of the channel on the TV screen. I feel disgusted with myself as I’ve been trained to do.
I change channel.
{click}
The channel is DD Bharati. I have lost all hope now. I prepare to leave the couch. I restore my now quarter full beer can to its original place for next month’s use. I decide to brush my teeth. No apparent reason. Apply toothpaste on the toothbrush. Suddenly, I hear a certain music I never thought I would ever hear again in my life. As I realize what it is, tears of joy start rolling down my eyes. A sense of elation grips me. I kiss the DD Bharati logo 50 times. But I sense it deserves better love. I brush my teeth and kiss the logo 50 times again. It’s Byomkesh Bakshi playing onscreen. After an entire day of unimaginable hardship, I experience sheer magic for half an hour. My sense of the world has now returned to me. I begin to believe in the world, I start believing in society and politics, I start believing in god again. With a sense of hope, I finally hit the bed with a feeling that tomorrow can be a better place to live in. I dream that tomorrow can even be perfect. That night, I dream of Malgudi days.
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